


take a breath, take a step

by kiyala



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gods & Goddesses, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-16
Updated: 2014-10-16
Packaged: 2018-02-21 09:55:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2464073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiyala/pseuds/kiyala
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Combeferre and Courfeyrac are both life and death and ultimately two sides of the same coin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	take a breath, take a step

**Author's Note:**

> written for the [AU prompt meme](http://kiyala.tumblr.com/post/96342034971) I'm doing on tumblr for #32. greek god and roman counterpart AU - except I kind of cheated

The air is warming. Combeferre lifts his head and breathes it in, smelling its sweet fragrance like it's the perfume of a lover. He smiles in the darkness and waits as Spring leaves the world of the living, waits for it to reach him, to wrap its arms around him in a warm embrace.

One moment, Combeferre is sitting alone in his domain. The next, Courfeyrac is there, draped across his lap and smiling at him.

"You missed me," he remarks, kissing Combeferre's cheek.

"I've been patient." Combeferre pulls him close and kisses him hard all the same. Courfeyrac's warmth is already beginning to fade. 

"But you missed me all the same."

"It's more pleasant with you here," Combeferre allows and Courfeyrac laughs, the sound ringing through the large room. Combeferre can pretend to be as stoic as he wants. Both he and Courfeyrac know that it won't last. It's always like this and Combeferre's facade always crumbles the moment they are alone together.

They are opposite sides of the same coin and being without Courfeyrac means not being whole. Now that they are in each other's arms, everything feels right once again.

"You should see the surface," Courfeyrac murmurs. "It's changed a lot. Clever humans, building and creating and playing at gods. You're going to enjoy your turn up there."

"Next Spring," Combeferre replies, not wanting to think of that now.

Death and life are intertwined, more than humans and their myths can understand. Combeferre is patient, inevitable death and the warm, gentle Spring. Courfeyrac is the joyful exuberance of colours and the final, welcoming embrace of the end. Their names are varied; Hades and Persephone, Proserpina and Pluto, but to one another they are Combeferre and Courfeyrac and they are one soul sharing two bodies, together and separate at once, twining together eternally, parting reluctantly to take turns overseeing their duties on the surface before returning home to the darkness to be together once again.

Courfeyrac's mouth tastes like life, like sweet wine and nectar, and Combeferre chases it, replaces it with himself as he reclaims what is his, what will always be his, no matter how many times the wheel turns. Courfeyrac welcomes it, clinging to Combeferre until they pull apart, briefly staying out of each other's reach until they've attended to their responsibilities here.

Courfeyrac greets the newly deceased, welcomes them into the kingdom that he and Combeferre share. Combeferre watches, maintaining the distance so that he isn't a distraction. He's waited all Spring for this. He can be patient a little longer.

Then, Courfeyrac is back by his side, taking Combeferre's hand and smiling like the mild Spring sun. He would warm life back into Combeferre's heart if there was any there. He _will_ warm Combeferre, by another year's end, until they exchange roles. Without Courfeyrac, Combeferre would not be able to leave this place, would not be able to _stand_ this place, or eternity, or any of it at all. With Courfeyrac by his side, however, he will withstand everything.

"I missed you," Combeferre murmurs, in the privacy of their chambers. His words are for Courfeyrac alone, lips brushing against the shell of his ear. "I missed you desperately. It's difficult to count the days in perpetual darkness but I counted them all the same. At the end of every day, there would be another to count, but now…"

"Now I'm here," Courfeyrac finishes, turning his face, capturing Combeferre's lips with his own. "I'm here, and you don't have to count at all."

They may live an eternity, but their days are numbered just like the calendars. Even when they are down here, there is no escape from the seasons, from time. At least for now, Combeferre can ignore that. For now, time feels like a newly defeated enemy and not the lingering constraint that rules their lives. For now, they are together.

They bed each other with an urgency that Combeferre typically lacks, fuelled by the need to feel like one. Courfeyrac's fingers dig into Combeferre's back, pulling him closer and closer still, legs wrapped tightly around him. Combeferre sucks dark marks onto Courfeyrac's pale skin as though eventually, he can turn the smooth, unblemished skin as dark as his own. They are both death, they are both finality, but here, they are in perpetual motion, lasting an eternity, taking pleasure from the act rather than its conclusion.

Courfeyrac is vocal, especially in his pleasure, and he fills their chambers with his moans, with Combeferre's name. His voice rises, louder, higher, desperate, until he spills into Combeferre's hand, back arching, eyes wide, pupils blown. Combeferre is powerless against Courfeyrac's radiance, so different to the sun and life and everything the word could possibly imply, but bright in its own way. Here, in the depths of the Underworld, it's all Combeferre ever needs. He needs Courfeyrac the way plants need the sun, the way life needs death to give it meaning.

"Combeferre, Combeferre—" his name, from Courfeyrac's lips, sounds like a plea. Perhaps there is somebody in existence who can resist Courfeyrac's whims, but Combeferre is very rarely that person. 

He thrusts into Courfeyrac faster, swallowing the appreciative moan with a kiss. He muffles his moan against Courfeyrac's lips, crushing them against his so hard that they're both bruised as they pull apart. Courfeyrac holds onto Combeferre so that he doesn't go far. Courfeyrac is still pinned underneath him on the soft bed, their legs loosely wrapped around each other, noses nearly brushing.

"Stay right here," Courfeyrac murmurs, as if he isn't the one who has just come home. "I want you in my arms all the time. Between now and Spring."

It's a fool's promise, when they're just as busy down here as they are in the living world. It might be easier ruling hand in hand than ruling alone, but their time will not be their own. They will have to share each other and it's a thought that has Combeferre holding onto Courfeyrac even tighter. No matter what they do, they never feel like they've spent enough time alone together before Spring returns and they part ways once again. Until then, all they can really do is try.

"Until Spring." Combeferre promises it anyway, kissing Courfeyrac's lips, his chin, his neck. The air is warm and Courfeyrac is in his arms. Spring is a long time away.

**Author's Note:**

> Title from All Fall Down by OneRepublic


End file.
